


got a hold on me like glue

by okamiwind



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Idiots in Love, M/M, Slice of Life, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 17:33:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21149534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okamiwind/pseuds/okamiwind
Summary: "What is so magical about fucking a vampire? They're freaks," Ten says, shivering next to them. "Age differences give me the heebie jeebies.""Age difference," Johnny scoffs. "He's practically four hundred.""My point exactly," Ten mutters, and he folds his arms across his chest. "Find someone your own age to suck on, creep-o."





	got a hold on me like glue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smallchittaphon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallchittaphon/gifts).

_oct.7 ‘20_

Taeyong has an exceptional sense of smell, which is why he knows 100 yards in advance that Kim Dongyoung is standing in the middle of the quad with two of his vampire friends, presumably talking about vampire things. Blood, fangs, things of that nature. Taeyong stares at them as he walks, trying to understand why he feels so... drawn.

He and Dongyoung are in the same Legendary Creatures and Contemporary Moral Problems course. Taeyong finds it very difficult to keep his eyes away from Dongyoung, especially when Dongyoung leads a discussion. Taeyong feels a little tingling at the nape of his neck whenever Dongyoung breezes past him, smelling like cedar and the cool night sky.

It makes Taeyong think of the full moon. It makes Taeyong feel more like a wolf. It makes Taeyong... It makes him _want_.

"Stop staring at them," Ten says, and Taeyong immediately feels caught. "They're gonna come over and bite you."

A thrill of desire runs down Taeyong's spine.

"Wonder what it would be like to fuck one of them," Johnny says, and Taeyong looks at him like he suddenly developed the power to read minds. "What?" 

"Don't," Taeyong says, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. "It's weird to talk about people like that."

"What's weird?" Johnny says. "Fantasies are a very healthy part of the average person's sexual appetite. For instance, freshman year when we first met, I thought about what it would be like to have sex with you in were-form."

Taeyong wrinkles his nose, says, "Gross."

"But like, now that I _know_ you, I would never have sex with you, you know?" Johnny continues. "It's like, sometimes, the magic is what is attractive."

"What is so magical about fucking a vampire? They're _freaks_," Ten says, shivering next to them. "Age differences give me the heebie jeebies."

"_Age difference_," Johnny scoffs. "He's practically four hundred."

"My point exactly," Ten mutters, and he folds his arms across his chest. "Find someone your own age to suck on, creep-o."

Johnny shouts out a laugh, and he throws his arm around Ten's neck like a scarf. The three of them walk off together, but Taeyong surreptitiously watches the vampire from across the quad, skin glistening, hair shiny and black. He is supremely handsome, and when he opens his mouth to laugh, Taeyong feels the pit in his stomach worsen, sinking deeper inside his body.

_We're different,_ Taeyong thinks. _But isn't that what makes us the same?_.  
  


☾

  
  
_oct.10 '20_

Taeyong is swimming in work before midterms, and he can barely see straight. The full moon is approaching, just six days away, and sometimes, it feels like the wolf is taking over. He shuts his eyes, tries to focus, furiously scribbling down notes as the professor lectures about ways to rectify racial and special injustices, how class affects those solutions and intersects with the issues. Things are strewn across his table, but he doesn't have time to care.

Eventually, Taeyong sees the other students packing up, and as the professor wraps up, Taeyong is faced with the knowledge that he is incredibly behind on his readings. Hasn't even _started_ his paper yet.

"Remember," the professor says, "midterms due in _one week's time_." He raises his hands, waves them through the air. "An interview with an individual whose species is not your own, a discussion of a topic of your choosing, and a paper detailing arguments on both sides of that dilemma. Remember to use a text that we've gone over in class! Dropbox by midnight, or you will be docked a letter grade. No exceptions."

Taeyong figures he knows Mark, he can get a discussion about mer in the workplace out of him easily. He packs up his stuff as the rest of the students swiftly exit, shoving his book and his notebook into his backpack. By the time he's finished, everyone else has left, even the professor. Taeyong straightens out all his notes, sighing. He hates this time of year.

Just as he hauls his bag onto his back, he smells him. Taeyong looks up, sees Dongyoung standing at the door, dressed in all black as he leans against the door frame. He smells delicious, blood and metal and wind, and Taeyong stares at him for longer than he should. He shakes himself out of it, looks down.

"S-Sorry," Taeyong mutters, and he doesn't know why he's so fucking affected by him.

He tries to walk through the doorway, but Dongyoung doesn't move, just stares back at him.

"E-Excuse me," Taeyong says, and he looks up into Dongyoung's eyes, whole body going hot.

"I wanted to talk to you," Dongyoung says, and he sticks out his hand. "I don't think we've met properly."

"No," Taeyong says, and he takes Dongyoung's hand, shakes it, overwhelmed by the chill that lances through him. "I-I'm Taeyong."

"Dongyoung," he smiles, and then he bites his lip, calls attention to the fangs that look razor sharp and so very alluring. "Sorry, I... I just wanted to know if you started work on your midterm."

"O-Oh. No, I haven't, I—"

"We should do it together," Dongyoung says. And he grabs his phone out of his pocket, swipes and taps. "Give me your number."

Taeyong's stomach somersaults inside him, the back of his neck prickling with heat.

"U-Uh, yeah, sure, of course," Taeyong says, and he quickly rattles off his number, watching as Dongyoung's fingers fly over the screen. He is tense with confusion, with excitement, with fucking _surprise_, and he wonders why the fuck Dongyoung is talking to him, why he is wasting his time with someone like Taeyong.

"There," Dongyoung says, and immediately, Taeyong's phone vibrates in his pocket. "I'll text you, okay?"

"Y-Yeah, sure," Taeyong smiles. "Uh, cool. Thanks."

Dongyoung smiles another toothy grin, and Taeyong wants to lean in, wants to smell his own blood on Dongyoung's breath.

"No problem," Dongyoung says, and as he turns, walks down the hall, Taeyong watches him go, hand raised in a wave, aiming his goodbye over his shoulder. "Talk to you soon."

"Yeah."

Taeyong stands there, frozen until his phone vibrates again with a reminder of Dongyoung's text.  
  


☾

  
  
As soon as Taeyong gets back to the apartment, he masterfully avoids Johnny, and he makes his way to his bedroom. He sits cross-legged on his bed, holds his phone in both hands, staring at the text conversation before him, trying to make sense of it.

Surely, Dongyoung couldn’t want Taeyong the same way Taeyong wants him. They’ve… It’s not like Taeyong is an idiot. He knows they can’t be together. They’re too different, they’re… he’s a werewolf, Dongyoung is a vampire, and people would stare every single time they went out in public. Hell, Taeyong already feels their eyes _now_. 

Still, it doesn’t make Taeyong wanna stop texting Dongyoung, doesn’t make him want to pursue it any less, especially not once Dongyoung writes _does tomorrow at noon work for you_. 

_yeah_, Taeyong writes back. _we could go to the starbucks if you wanted._

_sounds good_, Dongyoung writes. _see you there._

Taeyong smiles down at the message, thinks about maybe texting back an emoji, wonders how casual and cool he can seem at first blush to make Dongyoung like him when in reality, there is nothing casual or cool about him. He is just a chaotic mess of emotions, raw desires, an— 

Johnny opens the door without knocking, and Taeyong hides his phone behind his back like he was caught looking at porn. 

“What were you smiling about?” Johnny asks, and he gets closer, pets the side of Taeyong’s face. “Why do you look so happy?” 

Taeyong grimaces as he slaps Johnny’s hand away. 

“Can’t I just… have a good day or whatever?” Taeyong asks. 

“No,” Johnny says, and he narrows his eyes before shrugging a shoulder, walking out of the room, his voice echoing. “Whatever, I don’t care who you’re banging. I’m making mac and cheese. If you want some, it’ll be done in like, ten.” 

“Okay,” Taeyong says, even as his stomach goes all hot and tense. 

He looks back down at his phone, smiles. Thinks about what he should wear.  
  


☾

  
  
_oct.11 '20_

Taeyong wears a sweater, feeling especially lucky that the chilly weather all but demands it. He wanted to look nice without looking like he was _trying_ to look nice, and he brushes down that sides of the deep violet, thinking about how it brings out his eyes. He wraps his hands around his drink, feels a shade of embarrassment before he taps his phone.  
No text. 

He looks around, and he’s waited ten minutes now, just long enough to get nervous that he’s been stood up when Dongyoung walks in, looks around. 

Taeyong raises his hand, waves. And Dongyoung smiles at him. Taeyong feels his own smile pulled from him, and he ducks his head a little to hide it. 

“Hey,” Dongyoung says breathlessly. “Sorry I’m late.” 

“No, I just got here,” Taeyong says. “You can…,” and he gestures to the counter before wrapping both his hands around his pink drink. 

“Yeah,” Dongyoung says, and he throws his bag to the ground with another toothy smile. “Be right back.” 

Taeyong watches him as he orders, the broad line of his shoulders. He’s wearing black, and Taeyong wonders if he _always_ wears black, wonders if that’s his thing. The pants he’s wearing fit him nicely. Taeyong’s eyes glide over the subtle curves of his thighs. It is then, of course, that Dongyoung turns around, catches Taeyong staring. 

Embarrassed, Taeyong looks down at the table, waits patiently for Dongyoung’s return. 

It is only a few moments before Dongyoung sits down across from him, coffee in hand. 

“Should we… I mean, should we get started?” Dongyoung asks, and he raises a brow easily. 

Taeyong realizes then that he’s completely misinterpreted the whole thing. Dongyoung didn’t ask him to work on the midterm together because he _likes_ Taeyong. It’s because he’s a werewolf. He feels incredibly stupid in that moment, dumber than he’s ever felt before. He always lets himself dream too big. Thinks too much and gets carried away. 

“Yeah,” Taeyong says, and he fumbles for his bag. “Y-Yeah, sounds good.”  
  


☾

  
  
For the better part of the afternoon, they have a discussion about interspecies relationships, and Taeyong finds it hard to focus. Already a bit letdown, he doesn’t want it to get the better of him, so he tries his best to give Dongyoung some answers that he’ll be able to use.

“Thanks,” Dongyoung says, and he stands up, looms over Taeyong. “I dunno, I just felt like it would be a good paper if I could… you know, talk to you. Someone who got it.” 

“Yeah,” Taeyong says, and he gives Dongyoung a weak smile. “Yeah, I get it.” 

“I really need a good grade,” Dongyoung says, wincing. “That last test.” 

“Yeah.” Taeyong exhales sharply through his nose when he thinks of the _78_ at the top of the page. “Me too.” 

They pack up their things silently, Taeyong finished long before Dongyoung, but for some reason, Taeyong stands there, watches him. He feels like he should say something. Keep this going even though he has no reason to. But then Dongyoung looks up at him with a grin, his fangs poking out cutely. 

“You know Yuta, right?” Dongyoung flaps his hands at his sides like wings. “Fae?” 

Taeyong looks up at him. “Yeah.” He threads his arms through the shoulder straps of his bag. “I know him.” 

“Are you going to his party?” Dongyoung mentions casually, and he slings his bag over his shoulder. “It’s on Halloween.” 

Taeyong’s stomach sinks. 

“I hadn’t heard about it.” 

“He told me to tell you,” Dongyoung says. “So I’m telling you.” 

Taeyong furrows his brow.

“O-Oh,” Taeyong says. “Okay.” 

“You should come,” Dongyoung says, lays another smile on Taeyong like maybe… like maybe something. “I mean, if you want. I don’t know if you—”

“I’ll come,” Taeyong says, aware that he needs to temper it before he sounds too eager. “I mean, yeah, I’ll check and see if I’m doing anything.” 

“Cool,” Dongyoung says. 

“Cool.”  
  


☾

  
  
_oct.31 ‘20_

Taeyong doesn’t like parties, generally speaking, but this is one that he needs to go to, so he puts on a happy face and brings two of his friends. 

“You have to look sexier than this,” Ten says. “What kind of a costume is this?” 

“It’s an—”

“Don’t say anime,” Ten says, and he whips his long, white-blonde hair away from his face. 

“It’s manga?” Taeyong tries. 

“Bakugou? More like Baku_no_,” Ten sneers. 

“You know it!” Taeyong smiles. “You know Boku No Hero Academia!” 

“I do not,” Ten sniffs. “As an ace, I am simply well versed in all things, weeb and otherwise.” 

Taeyong shoves his shoulder into Ten’s as they walk up, Johnny in tow. They’re wearing matching costumes, Johnny’s Jon Snow to Ten’s Daenerys Targaryen. Taeyong hates them, but he’s also really happy they came. He made them promise not to let him get too drunk for fear of embarrassing himself in front of Dongyoung, saying something stupid like _You’re really pretty, can we date?_

When they walk into Yuta’s apartment, Johnny and Ten are immediately accosted, pulled into embraces with people they know because they manage to know just about everyone, of course. Taeyong stands there uncomfortably for a minute before he turns around, staring at the goofy Halloween decorations, the spiderwebs strung along the ceiling fans, the purple and orange fairy lights, but when he turns back around, Johnny and Ten are gone, and Dongyoung is standing in their place. 

“Hey, you came,” Dongyoung says, and Taeyong stares at him. 

He’s wearing a purple velvet vest over a ruffling white shirt, intricately tailored to fit to his body. He’s got a little drop of blood running down the side of his mouth, red contacts in his eyes. Taeyong can’t hardly believe what comes pouring out of his own mouth.

“What are you _wearing_?” 

“I’m a vampire, duh,” Dongyoung says, and then he puts on a terrible accent. “I vant to suck your blood.” 

“You are a literal vampire, though,” Taeyong says, furrowing his brow. “This is the lowest effort I’ve ever seen anyone put into this holiday.” 

“I was born with a built in A1 Halloween costume, and you want me to _try_?” It shocks a laugh out of Taeyong, and he closes his hand over his mouth. Dongyoung smiles at him, a funny sort of smile. “I’ve never met a werewolf like you, you know.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re just really… nice,” Dongyoung says. “Normal.” 

“I resent that,” Taeyong says, and he folds his arms across his chest. 

“I mean, like, you’re really, I dunno…. prim. Proper.” 

“I’m not prim and proper,” Taeyong argues. 

“You’re a little prim,” Dongyoung says, tilting his head. “A little proper. To be fair, all the werewolves I’ve met have been total fuckboys.” 

“Is it because they also moonlit as frat boys?” Taeyong asks, a brow raised. 

“Hah.” Dongyoung punches Taeyong in the shoulder weakly. “_Moonlit._” 

“Shut up.”

“You didn’t get anything to drink yet?” Dongyoung asks. 

“I just got here, my friends…,” and he looks around him, “disappeared.” 

“Well, lucky for you, I know where the good beer is,” Dongyoung says, and he leads Taeyong off by the hand, a little affection that Taeyong can’t believe he’s getting.  
  


☾

  
  
They talk for most of the night, and Taeyong only feels mildly uncomfortable doing it in such a public place. He knows most people won’t bother looking at them, but they’re so… they’re so _out there_ in the open. Something wrong about the two of them together. And funnily enough, the more he drinks, the more alluring the whole thing feels. The more attractive the wrongness becomes. He stares at Dongyoung as he talks, watches his lips move. Watches his throat when he swallows.

His head is spinning, and there are stars in his eyes. His cup is empty. 

“You gotta stop staring at me like that,” Dongyoung smiles. 

“Like what?” 

“Like you wanna see what it’s like to have your blood drawn, if you know what I mean.”

Taeyong tries not to look scandalized. 

“That is _not_ how I was looking at you,” he says, a little too loud. His volume control is shot to shit when he’s hammered. 

“No?” Dongyoung smiles, and he leans in, runs his hand along Taeyong’s thigh, and Taeyong is forced to bite his lip. “See?” 

He looks down at Dongyoung’s hand on him, thinks about where else that hand could go. 

“Stop. People are gonna… gonna look at us funny,” Taeyong says. 

“So what do you wanna do?” Dongyoung asks, and it feels like a fucking challenge, one that Taeyong has to rise to. 

He drags Dongyoung up by the hand, drags him through the crowds of people, the clouds of smoke and the thumping music, pulls him into the blessedly empty bathroom and turns, momentarily scared to face him. 

“You okay?” 

The sound of Dongyoung’s voice makes Taeyong turn, makes him look into Dongyoung’s eyes, makes him… makes him _crazy_ like the full moon. 

He steps forward. A step and then another. 

Taeyong leans in, finally kisses Dongyoung the way he’s been dreaming about since he first saw him. The alcohol blooms across his chest pleasantly, and he can taste the drunkenness on Dongyoung’s lips, lets it slip between them like a love shot. Taeyong presses Dongyoung against the door of the bathroom, lets their bodies press together, rewarded by the gentle, soft sound of Dongyoung’s moan. 

Slowly, slowly, Dongyoung’s hands come to Taeyong’s waist, and he holds their bodies together as Taeyong holds Dongyoung, one hand on the back of his neck, the other at his jaw. It is slow, sensual, and when Taeyong feels Dongyoung’s fangs, he feels the moonlight shiver run through him. Dangerous and beautiful. 

Dongyoung grinds his body into Taeyong’s, takes more and more, and Taeyong loses himself in the fantasy of what they could be. He slips his leg between Dongyoung’s, swallows the sounds of pleasure that Dongyoung lets escape him. It feels like they could do this for real, it feels like… something like a happy ever after. 

That’s when Taeyong has to put an end to it. Before the end comes for _him_ instead. Before Dongyoung makes a mistake, one that he can’t undo. 

“Oh my God,” Taeyong says, gasping, trying to catch his breath, “oh my God, we can’t.” 

Dongyoung steps back, gentle as he extricates himself from the tight embrace. 

“You don’t want to?” 

Taeyong wants to say _I want to. I want to. I want nothing but this._

“I’m drunk,” Taeyong says, and he can feel the heat in his face, feels it like flames licking along his lips. “I’m drunk. A-And you’re drunk. Aren’t you?” 

“Yeah,” Dongyoung says, not the least bit sheepish, and he brushes his knuckles along the high point of Taeyong’s cheek. “And if I forget this, I’m gonna be pissed.” 

The words simmer through Taeyong’s blood and along his skin, and all his hairs stand on end as Dongyoung kisses him again, once then again, before he twists the handle of the door, leads Taeyong out by the hand. 

“Okay, I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” Dongyoung says, and he winks. 

Taeyong can barely find it in his heart to care that Dongyoung feels more and more like a dirty little secret with every passing second.  
  


☾

  
  
_nov.3 ‘20_

He dreads seeing Dongyoung the next class, knowing with all his heart that something terrible will occur. Dongyoung will come up to him and tell him it was a mistake. Dongyoung will say that they shouldn’t see each other anymore. Dongyoung will waffle for a minute before he lands on the fact that he really likes Taeyong as a friend, but he can’t see him as anything more. 

And the moment comes just as Taeyong knew that it would. The class filters out of the room, and Taeyong instinctively waits. Dongyoung walks over to him, backpack slung across his shoulder. 

“Hey,” he says. “Sorry about the other night.” 

Taeyong doesn’t wince because he doesn’t want Dongyoung to know that he doesn’t want an apology, he wants a fuckin’ repeat. An escalation. 

“It’s cool,” Taeyong says easily. “I’m sorry too.” 

“We should… I mean, I don’t know,” Dongyoung says. “I don’t want things to be awkward between us, so if you don’t wanna talk anymore, if you just wanna forget it—” 

“I mean, if that’s what you want,” Taeyong says. “I know people can be weird about…,” and he gestures between them, “our kind.” 

“Ugh,” Dongyoung smiles. “_Our kind_, don’t say it like that.” 

Taeyong smiles, lets the smile shatter into a weak laugh. 

“Sorry.” 

“So, yeah, just… let me know if you wanna forget about it,” Dongyoung says. “Or if you want me to leave you alone or whatever.” 

“No,” Taeyong says, and he is momentarily alarmed at the honesty that comes leaping out of him. “I just mean… if that’s what you want.” 

“I’m good with… you know,” Dongyoung says. “Whatever.” 

“Okay,” Taeyong says with a smile. “Whatever.”  
  


☾

  
  
_nov.21 ‘20_

Whatever is late night texts. Whatever is phone calls that stretch into the morning. Whatever is meeting on the quad, meeting his friends, introducing his own. Whatever is frantic bouts of barely restrained kissing in the men’s room whenever no one is looking. 

From then on, Taeyong sees Dongyoung almost exclusively on the weekends when Johnny is away. Dongyoung comes to the apartment, they laze around watching old episodes of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and making out in Taeyong’s bed, hands wandering easily, like they know the way. 

Taeyong always gets Johnny to text before he comes home, and Johnny thinks it’s because Taeyong is jerking off or something stupid like that. In reality, he is hiding the new best part of his life. 

They hold hands as Dongyoung pulls Taeyong to the door, as Dongyoung turns, as Dongyoung kisses Taeyong hard on the mouth like his quiet way of saying _Don’t forget this._

“I’ll see you later,” Dongyoung says. “Sleep well.” 

“Text me when you get home, okay?” Taeyong says. “I mean, if you want.” 

“Yeah, I will,” Dongyoung says. 

He steps back across the threshold, pulling Taeyong into another kiss, and Taeyong starts to wonder if maybe _he’s_ the one not putting enough of himself into it, because every time he sees Dongyoung, he discovers more and more to love.  
  


☾

  
  
_dec.11 ‘20_

After their last class together, Taeyong feels vaguely unfulfilled. He’s heading home later that same afternoon, so Dongyoung and he say their goodbyes to each other in the classroom after everyone has gone. He doesn’t know whether or not this will last, whether Dongyoung will _want_ it to last, but Taeyong knows that _he_ wants it to. He wants it to last forever, he thinks. 

Taeyong kisses Dongyoung, holds him by the hips as they lick into each other’s mouths, trying to commit the taste to memory. When they finally part, Dongyoung’s eyes are nearly all black, the pupils swallowing up all the color. 

“‘Kay,” Taeyong says, “I should go.” 

“You can, uh, you can call or whatever,” Dongyoung offers. “If you’re bored over break.” 

“O-Oh,” Taeyong says. “Y-Yeah.” 

“Just if you’re bored,” Dongyoung says. “If you want.” 

“Okay, I will,” Taeyong says. And he fucking means it.  
  


☾

  
  
_mar.14 ‘21_

It comes to a head in the spring, when the flowers have bloomed and the smell of rain is thick in the air. Taeyong knows that things have not been perfect, but he can’t help it. He’s selfish when it comes to Dongyoung, and he doesn’t want the little spell of magic broken. Not when Dongyoung could do so much better than him. When Dongyoung could have something normal. Less… _him_. 

Dongyoung comes to the apartment when Johnny is at Ten’s. He stands by the door as Taeyong grabs him something to drink, and strangely, Taeyong feels like he isn’t going to stay. 

“What’s wrong?” Taeyong asks, and he looks down at Dongyoung’s feet. “You haven’t even taken your shoes off yet.” 

“God, I just… I wanna end this,” Dongyoung says, and he looks so weak, so fraught with leftover emotion. “It’s too much work sneaking around, and I like you, I really do, but it’s—” 

Taeyong panics, can’t imagine his life without Dongyoung anymore, can’t imagine himself with anyone else. He crushes their lips together, makes his body and Dongyoung’s body form an unbreakable line. He wants this. He wants this. He’s always wanted it, ever since he knew it was an option available to him, and he’s not ashamed of it. 

When they break, Dongyoung’s chest presses against Taeyong’s own as their breath comes to them raggedly, brokenly. There is so much heat in Dongyoung’s eyes, so much potential, and Taeyong wonders if maybe all along he’s been trying to tell himself that it’s in his head, that it’s only been him, because he’s scared of getting hurt. Because he was trying to protect himself. 

“I don’t wanna stop,” Taeyong says. “Do you wanna stop?” 

Dongyoung sighs, and Taeyong surges to taste it, kisses him softly, sweetly. 

“I want it to be different,” Dongyoung confesses. “Different than it is. I wanna… I wanna know that you like me. I wanna know that… that it’s okay for us to be together.” 

“I like you,” Taeyong says, and that, he certainly doesn’t need to convince himself of. “And it’s okay… if we’re together.” 

“Stop,” Dongyoung says. “Don’t just say that to appease me.” 

It’s not appeasement, Taeyong realizes. It’s just the truth. 

“I’m not.” Taeyong shakes his head with a smile. “I always thought… I thought you could do better than me. I thought maybe I was making things up in my head.” 

“You’re fucking stupid, you know that?” 

“Sometimes,” Taeyong says, and he shrugs with a little grin. 

Dongyoung rolls his eyes before bringing Taeyong’s mouth to his own, kissing him hard and full, with so much promise. _Don’t take it away from me now,_ Taeyong thinks. _Because now my hopes are up._

“Maybe we were both being stupid,” Taeyong says, breathes against Dongyoung’s lips. “Maybe I was making something out of nothing, and maybe you didn’t… couldn’t see how much I really like you.”

“Fuck,” Dongyoung curses. 

“What?” 

“I just… I really like you.” 

“And if anyone gives a shit—” 

“No one is gonna care,” Dongyoung smiles, and his teeth poke out, sharp and beautiful. “No one will pay us any mind, really. A-And if you want—” 

“Then we should—”

“We should do whatever we want,” Dongyoung says, and his hands come to Taeyong’s hips, holding him with restrained ardor. “Whatever the fuck we want.” 

“I want to be with you,” Taeyong says. “For real.” 

Dongyoung gathers him close, and they wrap each other up in the embrace. 

“Yeah?” Dongyoung whispers. “For real?” 

“Yeah,” Taeyong whispers back, and the words are a kiss, one that Taeyong presses to the hollow of Dongyoung’s throat over and over again like if he can repeat it enough times, both of them will start to believe it.  
  


☾

  
  
_may 2 ‘21_

Dongyoung is on the couch, feet thrown over Johnny’s lap, and Taeyong stares at him. 

“What?” he says, acting all innocent like Taeyong is crazy, like _Taeyong_ is the crazy one. 

He should know better by now. Taeyong wants everyone to know that Dongyoung is his, that he is Dongyoung’s. That they are together. That what they have can’t and shouldn’t be hidden. 

“Come on,” Taeyong says, and he walks over, grabs Dongyoung by the hand before pulling him up. “My room.” 

Dongyoung laughs, and Johnny groans good-naturedly the way he always does. The door shuts behind them, and Taeyong presses Dongyoung against it, kisses him fiercely. 

“What’s gotten into you, huh?” Dongyoung asks, and he runs his hands through Taeyong’s hair, scratches his scalp. “You jealous all of a sudden?” 

“No,” Taeyong says, and he kisses Dongyoung again, runs his tongue along the sharp point of one of Dongyoung’s fangs. 

They move to Taeyong’s bed, Taeyong’s back against the mattress, and he guides Dongyoung to his throat, lets him know exactly what he wants. 

“You sure?” Dongyoung asks. “It’s only been a couple weeks.” 

“I’m good,” Taeyong says, and his fingers thread together around the back of Dongyoung’s neck as he settles back, looks into his eyes. “Bite me.” 

Dongyoung lets the tips of his fangs scrape gently over the overly sensitive part of Taeyong’s neck before he presses an open-mouthed kiss there, licking at the skin and sucking until all the blood starts to rise to the surface. 

“You sure?” Dongyoung asks again, sighing out as he sniffs at Taeyong’s neck. “God, you smell good.” 

“Come on,” Taeyong says, and he wraps his legs around Dongyoung’s body, draws him in ever closer. “I wanna touch you.” 

Dongyoung smiles, presses his fangs to Taeyong’s throat, and when they sink in, it feels like he’s found another home. One that can come along with him wherever he goes.

**Author's Note:**

> ahh jesse i am so sorry that this has your ao3 attached to it, please forgive me !!!! 
> 
> (but really i hope u enjoyed thank u for being the best!!!!) 
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/okamiwind) | [my curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/okamiwind)


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